1. Henffych well, i wlad fy nghalon, Llwyddiant i ti Cymru dirion; Bendith i dy feibion dewrion, A dy ferched glân; Peraidd yw dy hynod hanes, I wresogi serch fy mynwes; Tra bo 'ngwaed yn llifo'n gynnes, Caraf wlad y gan. Anwyl-wlad fy nhadau, Caraf dy fynyddau; Creigiau gleision uwch y nant Ymwelant a'r cymylau, Dolydd a dyffrynoedd ffrwythlon, Ffrydiau clir a llynau llawnion, Adlewyrchant flodau tlysion Yn ei dyfroedd glân: Hiraeth sydd i'm llethu, Am anwylion Cymru, Ow! na chawn fy mhwrs yn llawn, A chred a dawn i'm denu, Adre'n ol i blith fy nheulu, A chyfeillion i'm croesawu: Yn olynawl gwnawn foliannu Cymru, gwlad y gân.
2. Mil melusach i fy nghalon, |
1. Glyndwr, see thy comet flaming, Hear a heavenly voice declaiming, To the world below proclaiming, Cambria shall be free: While thy star on high is beaming, Soldiers from the mountains teeming, With their spears and lances gleaming, Come to follow thee. Hear the trumpet sounding While the steeds are bounding, On the gale from hill and dale, The war-cry is resounding: Warriors famed in song and story, Coming from the mountains hoary, Rushing to the fields of glory, Eager for the fray: To the valley wending, Hearths and homes defending, With their proud and valiant prince, From ancient kings descending; See the mighty host advancing, Sunbeams on their helmets dancing, On his gallant charger prancing, Glyndwr leads the way.
2. Now to battle they are going, |
1. Men of Harlech! In the Hollow,
2. Rocky Steeps and passes narrow, |
1. Men of Harlech, march to glory,
2. Thou, who noble Cambria wrongest, |
1. Dauntless sons of Celtic sires Whose souls the love of freedom fires, Hark! ev'ry harp to war inspires On Cader Idris side. See the brave advancing, See the brave advancing, Each well-tried spear Which Saxons fear, In warlike splendour glancing. Proud Harlech from her frowning tow'rs Pours forth her never failing pow'rs. Rouse, heroes, glory shall be ours, March on, your country's pride! |
2. Shall heart-rending sound of woe Be heard where Conway's waters flow? Or shall a rude and ruthless foe Find here one willing slave? From mountain and from valley, From mountain and from valley, From Snowdon, from Plinlimmon's brow Around your prince ye rally. Let cowards kiss th'oppressor's scourge, Home to his heart your weapons urge, O'erwhelm him in th'avenging surge; To victory, ye brave! |
Men of Harlech stop your dreaming Can't you see their spear points gleaming See their warrior pennants streaming To this battle field Men of Harlech stand ye steady It cannot be ever said ye For the battle were not ready Stand and never yield |
From the hills rebounding Let this war cry sounding Summon all at Cambria's call The mighty force surrounding Men of Harlech onto glory This shall ever be your story Keep these burning words before ye Welshmen will not yield |